Recovery
by alpacalypse99
Summary: Cobb has been in a terrible car accident that Ariadne thinks is her fault. When it's her responsibility to care for him, she must confront her guilt, and they must both confront their feelings for each other.
1. Chapter 1

The restlessness of the waiting room was almost tangible. She sat, fidgeting with her cardigan. Waiting. Waiting. Ariadne watched people move up to the front desk where a bored receptionist was presumably playing solitaire. Ariadne watched doctors come out of operating rooms with news, good or bad. There had been one family she saw the operator greet with a grim face, and she observed the group's loss of control at the terrible news. But there'd been more tears of joy that day that there'd been of despair. Ariadne had been sitting in this uncomfortable blue chair since nine that morning (watching other people receive news) and as it was now five in the evening, she was beginning to feel the effects of prolonged sitting.

She'd arrived before Cobb had even gone in. Even before he'd come out of the ICU. He actually went into the operating room at eleven, but she'd been with him for hours before that, even if he wasn't aware of it.

Arthur, Eames and Yusuf had shown up at three thirty, to see Ariadne curled up in a chair, almost invisible.

"He's been in for too long." She muttered over her knees in response to their unasked question.

"What time is it?" Inquired Yusuf, checking his wrist for a watch that was non-existent.

"Thee thirty," Eames said with a forced calm. "Anyway. It's only a half hour over. There's not a problem."

"No one's come out of that operating room all day." Ariadne said, closing her eyes.

The three men took seats on either side of Ariadne, sheltering her from the oppressive smell of _hospital_.

"Get some sleep." Arthur murmured into my ear. "You've been awake for too long since Wednesday."

She huffed, but with the quiet murmur of impatient friends, she drifted to sleep.

_"Cobb, it's not your job to do anything for me, I can handle myself!" Ariadne said, turning to face him in the car. Rain streaked down the windshield. _

_"Well obviously that's not the case, Ariadne! That guy back there certainly didn't seem to think that you were in control, from the way he was groping you." Cobb responded, raising his voice._

_"Well what if I wanted him to?" She was almost yelling now._

_Cobb gripped the steering wheel tight, turning his knuckles white. "What are you, twelve?" He smirked, juvenilely._

_"I'm fucking twenty five years old, Cobb!" Her voice was shrill. "That's only ten goddamn years younger than you."_

_"Hey, speaking of fucking, how good do think that grease ball back there would've been?" Cobb asked, sneering and cocking his head to the side sarcastically._

_"Oh, you know what, Cobb? Fuck you. Let me out of this stupid car." She exclaimed, rattling the door handle._

_"You are not getting put, Ariadne! It's just empty road." He locked her door._

_She unlocked it again and opened it, as the car was still moving. Cobb instinctively slowed down, and Ariadne made her move, she hopped out onto the shoulder of the road._

_Cobb pulled the car over and got out himself. _

_"Can we just talk about this?" He yelled over the rain._

_"No! Can I just stand here a while?"_

_"Ariadne, get back in the car. You'll catch a-" His words were cut short by a screeching crash and a whirling of tires and twisting lights._

I opened my eyes to the blinding white of the hospital waiting room. Arthur was leaning worriedly over me.

"Are you alright?" He asked, concerned.

"It was my fault, Arthur!" I wailed. People turned to look at us.

"What was your fault?" He wondered, concern lacing his voice.

"That night, we were having an argument in the car. And- and," I hiccupped "And I got so mad, that I got out onto the side of the road. And he pulled over too and he was trying to get me to come back to the car, and then he got hit." I was slurring my words and when Arthur tried to hug me, I just sank deeper into the blue fabric.

"Oh, Ariadne, that wasn't your fault. It was that drunken bastard's fault." Arthur told me with sad eyes.

I was spared answering by the arrival of Miles, accompanied by James and Philippa.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his children, not now. (However adorable and sweet they might be.) Not when the question of Cobb living or dying still hung in the air. Not when I most probably killed him.

"Ariadne-" Philippa was cut off by Arthur.

"She's asleep, Philippa. Ariadne didn't sleep last night and she needs some before she sees your daddy." Arthur told her quietly. I was internally thanking him for covering me.

"Okay." She whispered, and I could tell that she was somewhat reassured by her father's implied safety.

I didn't sleep again, but I kept my eyes closed. I was jolted out of my comfortable position by a quiet voice from somewhere to my left calling,

"Dominick Cobb?" I jumped up, along with everyone else and hurried over to the small woman, with a mask hanging around her neck.

"Is he alright?" I asked, hysteria around the edges of my voice. Eames gripped my elbow.

"In any operation of this magnitude, there would of course be some complications, and Mr. Cobb is no exception. His collapsed lung will be fine, and his legs will heal. It will be a long road, but he'll recover."

She finished with a small, weary smile.

I hugged her, before asking "When can we see him?"

"Now, if you want. He's slightly delirious, though." I turned to Miles who was holding Philippa and James in his arms. Their beaming faces matched mine.

Miles, without hesitation pushed open the door, still holding the children. I noticed that Arthur, Eames and Yusuf hung back, and I tried to join them.

"No, Ariadne. You go in too." Arthur pushed me forward slightly.

Cobb's eyes were fluttering a little and he was smiling as James and Philippa held onto his hands, their eyes wide. The two kids were talking all at once, and I could see Cobb trying to keep up, and failing.

Miles noticed me, standing awkwardly inside the closed door. He smiled weakly.

"James, Philippa, we have to go now. Daddy needs to talk to Ariadne."

"Bye, daddy! We'll see you soon." Philippa chirped as she and her brother were led away by Miles.

I heard the door close, and knew I was alone with the man I'd almost killed.

"It's you." He observed, smiling slightly.

"It _is_ me." I answered, walking over to his side.

He took my hand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for saying those things to you." I could tell he was trying to string a sentence together properly.

"No, _I'm _sorry, Cobb. You were just looking out for me. And it's my fault you got hit." My words ended in a strangled sob.

"It's not your fault, Ariadne." Even through the haze of drugs, he was firm. His eyes started to close. "Call me Dom." He was asleep.

I squeezed his hand. "Okay." I whispered, and he smiled slightly.


	2. Chapter 2

The day he was discharged, I hadn't slept since the waiting room. That was three days ago. I knew why, though. I kept thinking how disgustingly similar the accident and the waking from limbo were. Him talking, trying to help somebody, when he's hit by a huge force.

James and Philippa were at school and Miles at the college, so it was me that had to go get him. He was already in his wheelchair when I arrived. I could also tell that he was embarrassed and nervous about being lifted into the passenger seat of Miles' car.

Getting him back out of the car, though, was a different ordeal entirely. Without any help from hospital staff we were going to have to get him into his wheelchair. I positioned the chair facing the car door. Cobb turned around, grimacing when his casted leg hit the gear shift. Thank God his arms were fine, and he could push himself into the chair, pulling his legs along.

He sat, silent and helpless in the living room as I brought his mattress down. There was no way he was getting up those stairs with two broken legs and a still healing lung. His bedroom was clean, sterile.

I didn't stop to look around, the thought of Mal here, alive, would only depress me. As I stripped the bed, my mind wandered.

_You are waiting for a train…_

_No. No._ I told myself, _you will not think of that now. You are here to make Cobb better_, _not to be sad about his past. That's just ridiculous anyway. It's not like there was anything you could have done to keep them together. _

I began, then, the arduous task of getting the mattress down the stairs. I was walking backwards and dragging it behind me. It thumped down each stair, and with each dull thud I could feel Cobb wince from his position on the ground.

With a final grunt of effort, I pulled it onto the main floor.

"Where- where's the guest bedroom?" I asked him, panting.

"I'll show you." He said and began wheeling himself down the hall. "Just in here." He was pointing into a small, bright room. It seemed too small for the empty queen sized gold bed frame that stood as the solitary piece of furniture in the room. I heaved the mattress onto the frame and, sweating with the effort it took me, positioned it in place.

With a huff I sat, deflated, on the edge. He wheeled over next to me. We were the same height.

"Miles is moved out. How are we gonna get you into that bed tonight?" I asked him, wiping my forehead.

"I'll manage. If you agree to help me, that is." Even though he was smiling his eyes were dreadfully sad.

I said nothing. There was something uncomfortable in the air, a barrier of some kind.

"Any way, I can't ask you to take care of me, Ariadne." He told me, looking down.

"I'll get the sheets." I said stiffly, and left him there, with the late afternoon sun turning his hair gold.

* * *

I didn't have a place to stay at the moment, and I knew he assumed that I'd be staying with him. I knew that would be the best thing for him, as Philippa and James couldn't be expected to do much. But it was not really what I wanted. I knew that Cobb was the priority, and not my comfort. I wasn't the one with two shattered legs and a collapsed lung.

Dinner was quiet and odd. It was only the two of us, as the kids were at Miles' to ensure Cobb an interruption-free first night home. I sat across from him and stared down at the pasta I'd hurriedly made.

"This is good, Ariadne." He said with a small smile I his voice.

I looked up, smirking. "Goddamned liar. It's terrible, there's no need to flatter me, and I could still kill you any time I wanted."

He gasped dramatically. "You'd never!" He exclaimed with a laugh. His eyes turned almost immediately sad.

"You know, Cobb-" He cut me off.

"Ariadne! For fuck's sake, call me Dom." He was staring me down.

I stared right back. "Why? No one else does."

"'Cobb' is too formal. It doesn't feel right." He answered quietly.

I said nothing; I think I was slightly stunned. I cleared the table.

* * *

That night, he had to have a bath. I filled the tub with bubbles (a concealer of sorts) and hot water.

"I promise I won't look." I said with as much reassurance as I could muster.

He only grimaced. Cobb hoisted himself onto the lip of the tub, and with eyes cast to the ceiling; I gently lowered each leg into the water. He sank, strong arms trembling with the effort, into the bath.

"I'm- I'm gonna go now." I told him awkwardly.

He nodded.

"Call me when you want to get out."

If I knew anything about Cobb, he would hate being dependant on someone as heavily as he was now. I was the only was he could really live, and that, would make only looking at me sickening for him.

There was no room upstairs, so I took the liberty of finding the linen closet, and making myself a bed on the pull out couch.

"Ariadne." I heard him call from the bathroom. His voice was small.

There were still bubbles in the water (thank God) and he was sitting up, with a pained grimace on his face.

"I hit my leg." He said, in response to my puzzled expression.

"How're we gonna do this?" I asked him. I myself had no idea.

"I suppose we could let the water out and I could air dry here." He was only half joking.

"I suppose we could." I sighed. "Where's the plug?"

He motioned to where it must have been, and I reached into the now luke-warm water and pulled it out. I turned away as the water drained.

"Could you pass me that magazine, please?" I handed it to him, still looking up.

"I'm gonna go, again."

"No stay, don't worry, you can face the door." I could tell he was smiling. "Just, I wanna talk."

"So, talk." I was irritated over some non-existent reason.

"Well, what are we going to do about you?"

"What about me?"

"I mean, you're staying here, right?" He asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

"I should hope so. I don't have a place here. And I can't exactly just run off back to Paris, now can I?"

"Good." He responded, satisfied. "I'm all dry."

He pulled himself up onto the edge of the tub, groaning with strain. Cobb slid himself backwards into the chair I had waiting. I was still averting my eyes when I carefully pulled each leg out of the bath and rested them on the rests of the wheelchair.

"I'm fine from here, Ariadne." He told me, and to be honest, I really didn't want to argue the point.

* * *

"Hold still, would you?" I said impatiently. We were trying to get him into bed.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't get myself into bed using only my arms, Ariadne."

"Why do you keep doing that?" I asked.

"Doing what?"

"Saying 'Ariadne'. There's no one else you could be talking to."

"If I call you 'Ariadne', you should call me 'Dom'."

I responded with, "Whatever. Tomorrow I'm calling Arthur."

When I finally settled down on the surprisingly comfortable couch, guilt washed over me again. _I shouldn't have been so bitchy to him. _I thought to myself. _It's my fault he's crippled now, anyway. _

Suddenly the couch wasn't half as soft.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh God, Arthur, you've got to help me with this." I was whispering to the phone, as Cobb was still asleep.

"Okay, I can come today, Wednesday and Saturday. I don't know about next week, though."

"What about Eames?" I asked desperately.

"I have no idea where Eames is right now, Ariadne. But he's not here."

"Yusuf?" I was desperate now.

"Yusuf's gone too. But I think he'll be back soon."

"Oh God. Well okay, then. Thanks, and be here soon!" I hung up.

I set about making Cobb breakfast in bed, not out of any real courtesy to him, it would just be easier if Arthur was here when he got up.

If I had a substantial amount of time, my cooking could be bumped up from unsatisfactory to mediocre. Scrambled eggs, yes, those were easy. Toast, too.

I pushed the yellow mush around the pan, being extremely careful not to burn them, and being careful not to let my mind wander. When the eggs were finally solid I pushed them onto a plate, set the toast beside them as elegantly as possible and placed the whole thing onto a tray I'd found under the sink. His orange juice was accompanied with and extra strength Advil.

"Are you awake?" I asked him from the doorway.

"If I don't answer will you assume I'm asleep?"

"No. But I have food." I answered with a little smile.

He brightened immediately, and with a small grunt, pushed himself into a sitting position. "Do you have my drrruugsss?" He asked smirking.

"Don't get hooked now, Co- Dom." I corrected myself.

"There we go. And anyway, you're not the one with two shattered legs."

"True." I set the tray up on this little table that went across his lap, and gave him his pill.

He snatched it from me and popped it in his mouth, swallowed and with a smile, applied himself to his eggs. I watched him for a moment, not really thinking, just wondering how nice his hair looked when it was floppy. The door bell rang.

"Oh thank God, Arthur's here." I said, relived, and hurried off to answer it.

* * *

I awoke that afternoon (I was incredibly tired) to see a toddler staring at me.

"Hello." He said, smiling.

"Oh, hi. Are you James?" I asked, sitting up.

"Yes. And you're Ari-add-nee." He told me proudly.

"James, it's time for your lunch-" Cobb rolled into view. "You're awake." He stated, his face falling.

"I am." And waving slightly to James, left. To be honest, I was hurt by how obviously disappointed Cobb had been. But I knew, walking down the street that I'd handled the situation terribly. To cover up for my rudeness, I decided that I was going to fill his prescription for pain medicine- as Advil would do almost nothing. Thank God I still had the prescription in my pocket.

I caught the bus, and chose to stand instead of sitting beside a perverted old man.

On the ride home _home? _I thought, _no, it's only Cobb's home._

"Hey hey! I've got your real meds." I announced, walking in.

"Oh thank God, I can't take the three of them." Arthur shout-whispered, cornering me.

"Well then what am I supposed to do?"

"I dunno, but you're better with kids… and Cobb's basically an overgrown child."

I snorted into my hand.

"Look, Philippa won't eat waffles, cereal, tomatoes, mushrooms and oranges." Arthur looked around himself skittishly. "James must pick out his own clothes, and he hates seeds in anything." He pulled on his shoes, and, clapping me on the shoulder said hurriedly "Best of luck, Ariadne." And half ran out the door.

"Well fuck me." I sighed, pulling off my coat.

The living room was lit up by the glow of the TV, and the two children were sitting (still and quiet) immersed in the cartoon. I tiptoed down the hallway and peered into Cobb's room. He was lying on his back, the side lamp casting him into profile. It was only seven o- clock.

"Hey." He said, startling me. "I already had a bath, don't worry."

I sighed internally. "I got your real meds."

He turned his head slightly to look at me. "Gimme!"

I smirked a little, and tossed him the bottle. "Take one now, it'll knock you out."

He pinched a pill between his finger and thumb, and so fast I could barely see it, swallowed it.

I smiled, and turned out into the hallway to get the kids. James was already asleep, and Philippa was barely holding on to wakefulness. I turned off the TV and scooped up both children, their small blonde heads resting on my shoulders.


End file.
